


Save Me The Last Dance

by FalseKings



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor female oc - Freeform, idk they bicker a lot but all is good in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalseKings/pseuds/FalseKings
Summary: In the search for the second St. Dismas' Cross, Sam and Rafe find themselves needing to go to a Ball in the hopes of getting more clues...
Relationships: Rafe Adler/Samuel Drake
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	Save Me The Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta-ed and english is not my first language, so if there's any grammatical error just let me know.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much I enjoy writing it! :)

After a few months of research for any type of clue to move forward on the location of Avery’s treasure, Sam had found something: A collector of religious antiques named Charlotte Bennett was going to host a Ball in a couple of days in London, to show-off her new additions to her collection. If anyone would have any information on where to find another Saint Dismas’ cross, it would be her. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

With Rafe’s money and influence, getting the invitations for the event was no hard task. He took care of other details as well, like getting new proper clothes for the ball for both him and Sam, as well as getting a saloon appointment for them. Everything was going perfect… except for one little detail that Sam kept bringing up every single opportunity he had.

“Tell me again why can’t I go with you?” Sam said, his tone showing clear annoyance. “I mean, I was the one who got this lead, is all. Bit unfair.”

Rafe sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers “As I already explained multiple times, I can’t just show up in a high-class social event with you. The last thing I need is more speculation about me.”

“ _Speculation?_ And what type of speculation are you afraid of? That the rich people newspaper headlines will be ‘Raphael Adler is homosexual’? Big fucking deal, Rafe”

Rafe feels his shoulders tensing at the mere mention of having that as the headlines. That’s exactly the speculation he’s scared of. As his father told him so many times during the years he was still alive: people didn’t need to know about his private life, especially not about that. It would just bring issues to the companies.

“I didn’t say you _can’t_ go.” Rafe said slowly. “Just not with me. We can normally socialize when we’re there, we just can’t arrive together.”

“Of course. Raphael Adler is ashamed of arriving with a nobody. Oh, the _gossip_. He likes men _and_ lowlifes? Shocking.” 

“Oh, quit the fucking sarcasm, Sam. You’re going to your precious fancy ball with everything paid for you. Stop acting like it makes a difference who you’re going with.” Rafe’s voice was elevated, his blood was boiling and the constant mention of his full name wasn’t helping it. _Why is it so hard for this asshole to understand?_

Sam raises his hands in surrender, wanting to avoid another one of Rafe’s tantrums. “All right, all right. Fine. Guess there’s really no use discussing that with ya.”

~*~*~*~

The day of the ball arrived, and all was following their plan. Sam arrived at the event first, having small talk to some of the guests. No one seemed to know what the artifacts that would be shown today were. The best information Sam got was from a talkative staff member during a cigarette break. He mentioned that it was three objects, and all related to Catholic Saints.

Rafe showed up over an hour later, ‘fashionably late’ as he would call it. He was accompanied by a woman, slightly taller than him with a curvy figure, dark blond hair adorned with jewels in a complicated updo, with a single curl escaping it. Her low cut silver dress matching Rafe’s black and silver tuxedo.

Sam glanced over them, focusing on the lady. Rafe hadn’t mentioned he’d bring someone. Sam knew Rafe had no interest in women and that girl was only for show, just a fake trophy date, but that didn’t stop him from feeling his stomach hardening.

Almost an hour had passed. Sam observed Rafe as he made his way in the crowd, socializing with the people there, it looked so natural to him. He stayed longer with certain groups, and a few times he would let his expression of disdain for whatever question they asked him slip through the charismatic masquerade. At some point, Sam just started a mental game of guessing when someone may have brought up Rafe’s family in a conversation based on his facial expression and body language.

It took what it felt like way too long for Rafe to dismiss his ‘girlfriend’ for a moment and go meet Sam at the bar where he was staying. He asked for a drink before finally looking at Sam.

“Found out anything useful?” Rafe started, taking a sip of his drink.

“Hm, I found out you’ve a girlfriend now.” Sam said, pointing with his cup to the girl in the silver dress.

“Very perceptive of you. Her name is Sophia. Anything else?” His voice was monotone, almost null of all emotion.

If Sam was waiting for Rafe to explain himself, he wasn’t gonna get it now. “Well… apparently our dear Charlotte has three items to show off today, and all related to saints. Dismas was a Saint so there’s hope.”

“That barely means anything, Sam. The Catholic church has thousands of Saints.”

“Glass half-full, please? And since when you went back Sunday school?”

Rafe rolled his eyes at Sam’s snarky comment. “Anyway, I was informed the exhibit will be after the waltz. I’m guessing—“

“What do you mean ‘the waltz’? We will have _to waltz_?” Sam cut Rafe midsentence. “But of course there’s gonna be a dance. Why else would this event be called a Ball? Man, I don’t even know how to dance.”

“You won’t have to do anything. Not everybody is required to partake in it.” Rafe explained. “I wish I was that lucky.” He continued, finishing his second glass of champagne.

“Wait, wait, wait. You will partake in the whole waltzy thing? Oh that’d be something to see.” Sam chuckled, amusing himself with the mental image of Rafe _dancing._

Before Rafe could reply anything, Sophia came to warn him the dance was about to start. Suddenly the idea of Rafe waltzing wasn’t as entertaining anymore. Sam watched as the ‘couple’ walked to ballroom, getting into the right position for the dance. The slow music came in and the lights dimmed. Their dance was smooth, following the rhythm of the song. He observed them waltz for a while until turning back and deciding that staring at the bar was more fun. Even more fun with a few more doses of alcohol he couldn’t afford. But hey, Rafe’s paying.

~*~*~*~

After the waltz, Charlotte Bennett proudly announced her new religious antiques. None of them were the cross Sam and Rafe were after, or even related to Saint Dismas at all. Once the announcement was done, Charlotte stayed to talk about her collection. Rafe used the opportunity to ask if she had any information on anything related to St. Dismas, but no luck. They had hit yet another dead end.

Rafe didn’t even bother to tell Sam the news, he just darted to whatever place seemed quieter in this goddamn ballroom. Rafe found himself in a balcony, gathering all energy he could to not punch something, to not just start saying all the swear words he knew. He was so frustrated. He had to endure this whole night of unbearable socializing for nothing. Breath in, breath out. _Calm down Rafe, if you lash out and make a scene, people will stare._

Lost in his own mantra to avoid beating the shit out of some poor inanimate object, Rafe suddenly felt a hand touch his shoulder, bringing him back into reality. Looking back to see who it was, he realized it was Sam. He had in his other hand two cups of scotch, he handed one over to Rafe. Sam’s expression looked even more disappointed.

They both stood there for a few silent minutes drinking, looking at the ballroom and, watching the people leave.

Sam was the one to break the silence. “Hey Rafe, sorry my lead ended up being shit.”

“At least it was a lead.”

“Big deal, now we’re back to round zero… or is it ground zero? Fuck.”

Rafe stared at the now empty cup on Sam’s hand, wondering how many more he already drank. “Samuel, I’ve been running into dead ends for thirteen years. This is just another one to the pile.”

“It should be different with me, y’know? I’m a Drake for chrissakes. The original Drake. It should be in my blood.” Sam rambled through his drunken words.

It took Rafe every fiber in his body to not jab Sam straight in the jaw for the whole ‘I’m a Drake’ bullshit. He settled in in simply drinking another sip of his scotch.

After getting no response from Rafe, Sam continues. “This dead end…I feel frustrated. Does it ever stop being frustrating?”

“No. Not for me, at least. There are worse and more frustrating things, however.” 

“Like what?” Sam throws a quizzical look at Rafe.

That may be more sincerity than Rafe is used to speak, but this night was shit, he drank a bit too much and there’s no one but Sam here right now. “Living a lie. Living in the shadow of someone. Where everything you own and do is never truly yours… not even your own name.”

The sudden frankness and change of tone in Rafe’s words caught Sam off guard. “Well, seeing your partner romantically dancing with somebody else is pretty disheartening too, you gotta admit.” Witty remarks, that’s what Sam does when he’s uncomfortable with something, that’s what he always did. He was mentally prepared to be hit by Rafe for being a dumbass.

But all Rafe did was let out a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I suppose it is. Maybe I should have saved one last dance for you.” He paused, looking at the center of the ballroom; where just a few hours ago he was dancing with a girl he didn’t even care about, who he’ll never talk again. “Too late for that, I suppose. Let’s go home.”

~*~*~*~

The hotel they were staying wasn’t exactly close to the place where the event happened, but the long car ride did help to wash some of the alcohol away from their brains. They got to the hotel with about twenty minutes difference of each other, since Rafe insisted in calling different cabs to, as usual, avoid speculations. He had two suites booked as well, even though they always ended up staying in the same one. 

Sam arrived first, removing his annoyingly uncomfortable bowtie and shoes, and messing his own hair. He put on more comfortable clothing and slouched on the couch. He started to channel hop, trying to find something interesting to watch. He may have searched for too long when he noticed the door of the hotel room opening. Rafe entered the room, going straight to the bathroom to take a shower.

“Hey babe, what took you so long? I was starting to think you had run off with… whatshername?” Sam teased.

“The idiotic the driver took a wrong turn. I should’ve hired a private car instead of relying in whatever services that place provided.”

All in all, it has been a bad night where everything had gone wrong. Though, while channel hopping, Sam came across the music channel. He had an idea on how to end the night on a more positive note. It was a dumb idea, and the chances of Rafe refusing were really high. But it was worth a try.

When Rafe came back to the living room, now dressed only with sweatpants and a tshirt, he was met with the lights set on the dim-lit mode and waltz music playing from the TV. The center table had been pushed to the side so the living room had more space.

He looked around, brows furrowed in confusion. “Sam, what the fuck is going on?”

“Well, you said… back at the ball, you said you should’ve saved me the last dance but it was too late for that. But I was thinking… maybe it’s not?” Sam tried his best to sound smooth, and failed. A charming failure, if anything.

With his arms crossed, Rafe looked at Sam, lifting an eyebrow. “I remember you said you didn’t know how to dance.”

“I don’t. But you do.” _Well, at least he didn’t deny the idea yet._ “I promise not to step on your feet.”

Rafe sighed, uncrossing his arms. “Very well.”

“I’ve even lighted your favorite scente—“ Sam stopped himself, looking surprised at Rafe. “Wait, did you agree to dance with me?”

“Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“No, no. I mean, yes. I just thought you wouldn’t.”

Rafe smirked “Well, you were wrong.” He walked towards where Sam was standing in the middle of their improvised ballroom. “First of all, fix this caveman disposition of yours. You need to have perfect straight posture to waltz correctly.”

Sam obeyed, straightening his back. As Rafe instructed they positioned themselves so they were facing each other. Rafe guided Sam’s left hand to his shoulder, while holding his other hand. Sam attempted to intertwine their fingers, only to be met with a scolding look from Rafe, who may be taking this little dance class a bit too seriously. After the hands positions where set, Rafe told Sam to stay slightly to his right.

“We didn’t even start to dance and this already feels too complicated. I take back my promise of not stepping on your feet,” Sam said, jokingly.

Rafe chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll lead.”

And so Rafe did. Slowly teaching Sam the footwork, forming a square in the ground with the way their feet moved, following an one-two-three pace. Sam did his best to mirror Rafe’s movement but the occasional step did happen. “Good thing we’re not wearing shoes” Sam added after the third misstep. It took a good hour for them to finally be able to synchronize their movements, for Sam to be able to not worry about looking down at their feet and just enjoy the moment.

They lost their track of time, relishing their little dance. At some point, they simultaneously decided to ignore proper waltzing posture and just moved their bodies a bit closer to each other. With each three steps their bodies just got closer and closer, to a point where here was no room between them. They could feel each other’s hearts beating against their chest.

Sam’s hand traveled from Rafe’s shoulder to his chin, lifting up slightly, while he leaned down for their mouths to meet. The kiss was tender and warm. Sam’s hands both moved to cup Rafe’s face. Rafe wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist. Dancing was not a priority right now, just being together.

“I wish we could’ve danced together back there.” Sam said after their lips parted

“Me too.” Rafe replied. “I’m not ashamed of you, Sam. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know.” Sam’s hand carefully caressed Rafe’s cheek, before leaning in for another kiss. “Thank you for saving me the last dance.”


End file.
